


greedy

by charizona



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Smut, Strap-Ons, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charizona/pseuds/charizona
Summary: Except she would rather be having fun back in the bed and breakfast. Eventually, she does leave, giving Eve and Gemma a meaningful look and a quick, “I’m going to go masturbate,” because it’s about the only thing she has up her sleeve to get the two of them back soon enough for her not to be bored.Besides, the best thing about weddings is taking someone home. And hey, she’s got two someones.
Relationships: Gemma/Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 33
Kudos: 82





	greedy

They are in Bristol. 

Villanelle has never been to Bristol before, but here they are, in a tiny reception hall after watching the most boring looking people get married in a very regular church. Gemma cried, of course, while Villanelle poked Eve one too many times to the point where Eve slapped her hand away and Villanelle acted scandalized, gave Gemma a really good set of puppy dog eyes, and was immediately pulled in for a hug. A hug that consisted of Villanelle’s face in Gemma’s very ample bosom. Epic win. 

They are in Bristol, and the wedding has moved to the reception hall, and it’s hours later, they are all drunk, and Villanelle is _tired_ of being nice. Gemma has told everyone in her family about her girlfriends. Eve has played amicable, answered questions about being American or whatever, while Villanelle has told ten different people approximately eight different cover stories. She’s Julie, and French, and a designer. She’s Una, and Russian, and very, very poor. She’s whoever she wants to be when someone asks, and despite Eve’s nagging, this is _fun_.

Except she would rather be having fun back in the bed and breakfast. Eventually, she does leave, giving Eve and Gemma a meaningful _look_ and a quick, “I’m going to go masturbate,” because it’s about the only thing she has up her sleeve to get the two of them back soon enough for her not to be bored.

Besides, the best thing about weddings is taking someone home. And hey, she’s got _two_ someones. 

The bed and breakfast is cramped, too small for the entirety of Gemma’s annoyingly huge family, so no one bats an eye when Gemma requests a single room for the three of them, one bed. Of course, Gemma isn’t _hiding_ them from anyone. Villanelle didn’t hesitate to lay an arm over Gemma’s shoulders whenever she can; Eve is just a bit too tall for her to do it comfortably, but Gemma, she’s the perfect height, and she snuggles into Villanelle every single time.

Now, though, Villanelle leans back into the chair at the edge of their tiny room, adjusting her slacks in a way so they don’t _tug_ against her added appendage, hidden beneath her expertly tailored crotch. Eve and Gemma should be back any minute now, tipsy and laughing, and oh yes, she can hear them now, voices filtering down the hallway. The walls here are too thin, but Villanelle revels in knowing the entire building will hear them.

Key in the lock, and Eve comes in first. She doesn’t look surprised to see Villanelle waiting for them, taking her bottom lip between her teeth in the briefest of moments. Villanelle gives her a small nod, before raking her eyes over Eve’s tight, royal blue dress. Then Gemma, a step behind, in a more conservative dress, yet somehow more revealing, her cleavage leaving very little to the imagination. 

Villanelle stands, then, as Eve slips out of her coat and Gemma’s eyes fall on her. “V,” Gemma croons, stumbling over to her, “You left.” She pouts, her lower lip sticking out, and Villanelle gives her an easy smile.

Villanelle practically catches Gemma, says, “I had to get ready.” She says it meaningfully, because _yeah_ , and Gemma’s eyes immediately flit downward. In Villanelle’s arms, she’s small, pliable, and Eve, on the other side of the room, scoffs.

“I’m going to shower,” Eve says. “I’ll be out in a few.”

Villanelle nods, because she can’t exactly speak right now, not with Gemma looking up at her, eyes dark already — she’s _greedy_ , always is, and Villanelle can’t get enough of it.

“Don’t take too long,” Gemma says finally, turning in Villanelle’s arms. 

Eve looks at the two of them and smirks. “Right.” And then she’s gone, the door closed behind her. Gemma turns and throws her arms around Villanelle’s shoulders, pulling her down, down, down.

The kiss is breathless, needy; Gemma tastes like tequila, and Villanelle grins into her lips, hands roving across the small of Gemma’s back and down to her ass. She easily pulls up Gemma’s dress, hands tight against the underwear underneath it, and Gemma half squeals, half moans into her mouth.

Gemma slides a hand down and _holds_ her. Runs a hand across the toy between Villanelle’s legs through the fabric, devastatingly erotic. Villanelle pants as the base of it rubs against her, and says, “Knees.”

Gemma takes her lip between her teeth. She’s always _doing that_. She’s always playing it demure, hitting Villanelle right where she _needs_ it. She acts like she doesn’t know what any of this is, what Villanelle wants or needs from her, and Villanelle can’t fucking get enough of it. She presses a kiss to the edge of Villanelle’s mouth, drags her lips down to Villanelle’s neck, sucks the pulse point there, until Villanelle shakes her head.

“What did I just say?” Villanelle reaches up, grabs Gemma’s chin between her fingers. “Huh?”

Except Gemma takes Villanelle’s thumb into her mouth, lets it slide across her tongue and presses it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. Hollows her cheeks, _sucks_ , and Villanelle forgets what she said, too.

That is, until Gemma finally does slink to the ground, hands rapid against Villanelle’s belt. She undoes it easily, sliding the slacks down, and revealing the tight briefs, revealing the outline of Villanelle’s favorite strap, pressed against her thigh. And then Gemma looks up, biting her lip again, and says, “Can I?”

“How much do you want it?” Villanelle manages, because all she wants is to say yes, yes, just fucking do it already. 

Gemma’s hand finds the toy through the fabric again, strokes up and down the length of it. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left.” Her voice is just barely a whisper. She almost whines, “Please?”

Villanelle nods, too fast, too revealing, but who gives a fuck? Certainly not her, jesus. Gemma’s fingers hook the waistline of the briefs, dragging them down slowly, _teasing_ , until the strap bounces out of them. Gemma’s hand closes around the base of it, holds it steady as she presses her lips to the tip of the black silicone. Villanelle watches, hardly breathing, and then Gemma’s eyes are back, watching Villanelle watch her.

She spreads her lips, darts out a tongue, and pulls the tip of the strap into her mouth. Her cheeks puff as she takes it deeper. Villanelle’s mouth falls open, lips going dry. 

Gemma lets go of the strap and slides out of the top of her dress as she sucks, revealing the lacy bra she’s wearing underneath. She takes half the length into her mouth, pulls it away from Villanelle’s hips as she sucks _hard_ , and then she—

God she really just. Palms her own breasts. Villanelle almost wants to reach down and grab her tits herself, but then Gemma takes the strap even deeper, and fuck, she doesn’t even gag on it. It’s quick, experimental, and Villanelle can’t fucking stand it any longer.

She weaves her hand into Gemma’s hair — it’s down, Gemma hardly ever wears a ponytail — fingers sliding across Gemma’s scalp. She cups the back of Gemma’s head. “Okay?” Her voice is husky, dry. 

Gemma nods, the tip of the strap still in her mouth, and Villanelle pulls her down the length of it. Gemma chokes slightly, but then takes it in stride; soon enough, Villanelle is thrusting. She could get off on just this, if she wanted to. 

Gemma reaches for her, grips the back of Villanelle’s thighs, looks up at Villanelle through her eyelashes in such a way that Villanelle knows, can _feel_ how much Gemma wants this, needs this, likes this.

Villanelle pulls out with a soft _pop_ , a line of spit leaking from between Gemma’s lips. She wipes it with the back of her hand, sitting back. Looks at Villanelle with nothing other than an expression that says _What’s next_?

“You want to get on the bed for me?”

Gemma nods, scrambling to her feet, and Villanelle stops her. “Dress off,” Villanelle murmurs, stepping to the dresser and sliding a hand into her suitcase. She grabs the lube, squirts it into her hand, and rubs it down the length of the strap, watching as Gemma steps out of her dress. “Those, too.” The bra comes off. Then, the underwear.

Gemma sits on the bed. Villanelle comes to stand before her, leans down and kisses her, presses her down against the sheets. Gemma’s hands pull at the buttons of her shirt, so hard she breaks them, and they scatter across the floor. The two of them pause, and Gemma quickly says, “I didn’t mean to—”

Villanelle presses the strap against her, right between her legs. Gemma gasps at the sudden pressure. “You ruined it.” She runs a hand across her own chest, feeling her nipples stiffen. “You’re going to have to make up for it.”

She doesn’t give a shit about the shirt. It’s the way Gemma nods, bites her lip — that’s what she cares about. It’s the way Villanelle doesn’t even have to warm her up, she’s _soaking_. Still, she brings a hand between Gemma’s legs, circles two fingers around her clit before lining herself up and pressing into her. Gemma gasps, hair splayed out across the pillow, eyes fluttering as she gets used to the feeling of it. 

“Tell me what you want,” Villanelle coaxes, rocking her hips only slightly. Gemma, frustrated, tries jerking, tries getting more friction, but she can’t.

“More,” she tries, but Villanelle clicks her tongue.

“Tell me.”

“I need you to--to, um,” Gemma laughs, breathless, and tosses her arm over her eyes. “Fuck me, hard. _Please_. I can’t take it.”

Villanelle grins, thrusting _hard_ , and Gemma yelps at the suddenness of it. She throws her arms around Villanelle’s shoulders, digs her absurdly long nails into Villanelle’s back, scratching, as Villanelle builds to a steady rhythm. Gemma’s moaning borders on obscene, filling the room, and Villanelle can’t help but join, breathing hard.

She bends to press her lips to Gemma’s breasts, taking one of her nipples into her mouth and biting it. Gemma keens, arches into her in such a way that gives Villanelle a better angle on her hips. She slides even _deeper_ , Gemma says, “Oh, _oh, oh, oh',_ ” in time with Villanelle’s hips. Villanelle’s mouth is a mess against Gemma’s chest, sucking hard enough to leave her tits battered and bruised.

“Can we—” Gemma says, breathless, and Villanelle knows what she needs, because she _always_ needs it.

She slides out, grabs Gemma by the hips and flips her. Gemma lets out an _oof,_ immediately pressing her face into the pillows and pushing her ass into the air; Villanelle lines herself up, pushes in, and leans over her, filling her, and Gemma groans at the angle, leans into her. 

“That’s it,” Villanelle praises, reaching around and grabbing Gemma’s breasts. She rocks her hips slowly, agonizing, working Gemma backup to the precipice. “You’re being so good for me,” Villanelle says again, enjoying the way Gemma shivers into it.

One of Villanelle’s hands slides up to Gemma’s neck, lightly holds her there, just the slightest of pressure as she starts thrusting harder. Not faster, just stronger, hitting the soft skin of her ass with her own hips and filling the room with light, gentle smacks. Her hand moves up to Gemma’s jaw, fingers sliding into Gemma’s mouth. Gemma sucks eagerly, and she would, wouldn’t she? Villanelle jerks into her, already imagining getting herself off later, as she slides her other hand between Gemma’s legs and finds her clit.

That’s enough. She circles it once, twice, jerking her hips hard, and Gemma bites down onto her fingers. Villanelle holds her through the orgasm, feels Gemma buck against her. She always comes so dramatically, it’s so _satisfying_. Villanelle likes to hold her as still as possible, feel her muscles twitch and jerk. It’s spellbinding, and Villanelle holds her there until Gemma’s tongue presses against her fingers and she eases her bite.

Villanelle lets go of her, slides down Gemma’s body, and carefully pulls out of her. Gemma sighs as the fullness disappears, and it’s then that Villanelle notices Eve, standing at the edge of the room, wearing nothing but a towel with damp curls tumbling down her shoulders. Watching. 

She looks beautiful. 

Gemma collapses into the bed, turns and curls onto her side. “Eve,” she croons, noticing their third as well. “Come to bed.”

“Take it off,” Eve says in response, eyes flicking to the harness on Villanelle’s hips.

“Make me,” Villanelle counters, knowing she’s going to take it off anyway.

But it has the desired effect — Eve crinkles her brow, grimacing, and Villanelle laughs, pushing herself away from the bed, hands already going for the buckles at her hips. “You’re a child,” says Eve, as she lets the towel drop unceremoniously on the floor. Gemma hums in agreement, and Villanelle, annoyed at them both, drops the strap to the floor and immediately climbs back into bed, delivering a hard smack to Gemma’s ass.

“Ow!” Gemma squeaks. “See? Childish. I should know. I spend hours with them every day.”

Villanelle lies back, hands poised behind her bed, and watches as Eve moves to her suitcase, digging through it. “Eve, are you joining us?” Villanelle’s gaze doesn’t move from Eve’s bare ass, watching the shadows from the bathroom light play on the soft plane of Eve’s skin. 

Her answer comes in the form of Eve bringing out her own harness, affixed with her own dildo. The thicker, deep purple one that Villanelle likes. Now _she’s_ biting her lip, watching Eve slide it up her thighs without so much a word. Gemma, too, shifts next to her, sliding a hand between her legs. Villanelle glances at her. “Greedy,” she complains.

But she reaches over and grabs a handful of breast, causing Gemma to say, “Oh, _I’m_ the greedy one?”

Eve watches them, no doubt thinking once again _childish_ , but Villanelle wants to know what she’s _doing_. Eve, what do you want? Eve, what should I do? When Eve’s like this, quiet and so, so contemplative, Villanelle reaps the rewards. If she’s good. 

Eve, do you want her to be good?

“Eve,” Villanelle says, (she doesn’t _whine_ , but she doesn’t _not_ whine), “What are you doing?”

“I know what _you’re_ doing,” Eve counters, turning once again to the mirror above the dresser. She runs a hand loosely through her curls, so as not to snag, and Villanelle leans forward in anticipation, waiting, waiting, waiting for direction. “Get between her legs.”

Villanelle flops over, climbing on top of Gemma, making the smaller woman squeak under her weight, and lies between her legs, back against Gemma’s cunt. Gemma’s hands find her shoulders naturally, fingers twirling in her hair. “Like this?” Villanelle grins at Eve, spreading her own legs, revealing herself, hoping Eve will just _take her_. 

Eve rolls her eyes, and oh _good_ , oh good, oh good. This will be very nice. “You’re the worst.”

“She’s not,” Gemma argues, quick to defend. 

Villanelle cranes her neck, turning her face to Gemma’s. “Thank you.”

Gemma leans in, gives her a soft kiss. They hold there a moment, and Villanelle hopes it is making Eve very jealous, and her hopes are confirmed, because in the next moment, there are hands on her hips and Eve is doing her best to flip her over.

“Oh,” Villanelle laughs, helping. “You meant _this way_.”

“You know what I meant,” Eve mutters, but now that Villanelle is practically on top of Gemma once again, facing her, and Eve is hovering behind her, Villanelle decides she needs to be quiet, because there are tasks at hand.

First, Eve’s hand between her legs, stroking her. She’s wet from earlier, sure, but the feeling of Eve’s fingertips tracing from her clit to her entrance is distracting, too easy, too self assured. Eve teases, pushing inside of her with just a finger, and Villanelle rests her cheek against Gemma’s breasts, sighing into it as Gemma strokes her hair. 

“Gemma,” Eve says, her voice considerably lighter, considerably nicer. “How was she, earlier?”

“Oh, well,” Gemma starts, the hand in Villanelle’s hair stalling. “She was—”

“You are asking her to grade me, Eve?” Villanelle smiles into Gemma’s chest, right as Eve takes her clit between two fingers and squeezes. The sound Villanelle makes is terrible, almost embarrassing. 

“Be quiet,” Eve snaps. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Villanelle mimes zipping her lips and is rewarded by a finger slipping into her, warming her up. She doesn’t move, not when Eve is so fickle right now, she just waits for the feeling, lets Eve crook her finger against her inner wall, feels herself flutter against the pressure. God, she’s _ready_. “Eve,” she says, definitely once again not whining, “Could you—?”

Suddenly, there’s a hand on the back of her head, Eve’s hips pressing into her from behind, and then fingers twisting into her hair, lifting her head up, and _ow, Eve_ , that hurts, but then, “Mmph,” Villanelle manages, because Eve presses her face between Gemma’s legs, her lips colliding with Gemma’s. 

“Shut up,” Eve says.

Villanelle wants to complain, but Gemma tastes fucking phenomenal. And once again, she’s _reacting_ , a shuddering gasp already slipping through her lips. Gemma turns to liquid underneath Villanelle’s tongue, sinking into the sheets and pillows, and Villanelle laps at her, dragging her tongue through the leaking mess that she’s been reduced to. 

When it comes, she’s not expecting it. One minute, she’s dipping her tongue into Gemma, _into_ into her, and the next, there’s a soft nudge against her own entrance, and then a not so soft thrust into her. She can’t help the gasp that comes out of her, and how dare Eve make her sound like this, honestly, but also _Eve_.

Eve’s hands find her hips, drag Villanelle back and forth, moving along the length of the strap with a surprising roughness. Eve seems annoyed; for what, Villanelle doesn’t know. But she also doesn’t _care_ , because Eve moves faster now, the steady pressure inside of her feeling new and raw with each thrust. The tip hits her deep, dragging against the front of her in just the right way. Villanelle can hardly keep up with it, her tongue against Gemma falling still. 

Soon enough, her cheek pressures into Gemma’s thigh, as she bites her lip and grimaces at Eve’s force — she bites into Gemma’s thigh, not too hard, and muffles the sound of her own moan. She hates this, but also _loves it_. She hates the hand in her hair and the hands on her hips, because they are seeing her, using her, _holding her_. Villanelle feels herself tighten against Eve’s strap, basks in the immediacy of it, and as she reaches her crest, diving over the edge with gritted teeth, Eve slows, and Villanelle plummets through nothing.

“Are you _kidding_?” It’s a whine for sure. 

“Be good,” Eve says, “and pay attention to _Gemma_.”

Oh. That’s what they’re doing. Villanelle presses her face back to Gemma’s center, rounding her lips against Gemma’s clit and sucking, just teasingly. Gemma keens in response and Eve, she starts rolling her hips again. For Villanelle, it’s almost painful, the way she has to climb back up to the edge. She wants to be there, _now_ , Eve, please.

Sometimes, it’s almost like Eve can read her mind. “Say it,” Eve says, quickening her pace. She’s going properly fast now, and Villanelle’s lips bounce against Gemma’s skin with the beat of it. 

Villanelle stays quiet. Sometimes, in order to win, you must fight.

“Say it,” Eve says again, and she reaches forward, grabbing the back of Villanelle’s head, pulling her up by her hair. 

It’s the tight pull of hair at her scalp. “Please,” Villanelle manages, taking a breath. Eve lets go of her. 

She plunges back to Gemma, even brings a hand underneath Gemma’s thigh and presses a finger into her. Gemma jerks with the movement of it, grinding hard. But Villanelle knows what Eve wants. She wants Gemma to come, to be loud about it, lose control. Villanelle eats Gemma eagerly, eager both for the rush of arousal to spill from her, and for Eve to draw her to her own, elusive climax. 

Eve falls forward, breathing hard, and slams Villanelle further down. She’s almost gasping, no doubt getting her own friction out of this. “That’s it,” she murmurs, and Villanelle pushes a second finger into Gemma, fucking her hard. Gemma practically sobs at the force of it, and soon enough, she’s fluttering against Villanelle’s fingers. Eve works harder, too, and as soon as Gemma comes, shaking hard as her hips lift off the bed, Villanelle comes a moment later, Eve reaching around her hip and using two fingers to rub desperately at Villanelle’s clit.

She comes suddenly, electricity burning from between her legs and down to her toes. Villanelle groans, riding it out, and breathes hard into Gemma’s cunt. Villanelle lets out a breath as Eve slides out of her before falling into the bed next to Gemma, chest heaving. 

Gemma, surprisingly, scrambles to her knees, crawling over to Eve to press a messy kiss to her lips. Eve kisses her, soft, as she unbuckles her harness. Gemma’s hand finds her almost as soon as the straps slide down her thighs. She has Eve coming in mere moments, as Villanelle watches, and she was _right_ , Eve had been close.

Eve reaches out a hand as she shakes in Gemma’s arms, so Villanelle heaves herself up, comes to Eve’s side. She palms one hand against Eve’s breast, the other on her ass, curling between her legs and rubbing her fingertip across Eve’s ass. She can feel Gemma’s fingers working hard, sliding in and out of Eve, so Villanelle grabs Eve’s chin, angles her head toward her, and kisses her, wet and messy. Gemma kisses Eve’s neck, and soon Eve’s breathing chokes, her muscles of her stomach flex, and she’s coming undone by Villanelle and Gemma’s respective hands. 

And it’s _great_ , except there is a loud knocking on the door, furious. They don’t stop, holding Eve as she comes, but Villanelle yells, “Mind your fucking business!”

“Some of us are trying to sleep!” A voice yells. A man’s, _of course_.

“I’ll go,” Gemma offers, sliding her hand out from between Eve’s legs. Villanelle shakes her head, already standing. 

“No. I will.” She grabs the stupid towel from the ground, wraps it around her torso, and opens the door. Outside, of course, is a man with a ratface. Villanelle grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him in close. He’s an inch or two taller than her, but she can smell the fear on him. She doesn’t even care that her lips are glistening with Eve and Gemma. “Can I help you?”

“Um.” He gulps. “You were being too loud.”

“We’ll be as loud as we like,” she says, practically throwing him as she lets go. She gives him her best glare, and he stumbles back. “Or I will eviscerate you in your sleep. Got it?”

He nods. Practically runs away. Villanelle watches him go before turning back to the room. Eve and Gemma are in the bed, a space between them, waiting for her. Eve sits half up, head propped on her elbow. She says, “Wow.”

“So scary, right?” Villanelle climbs over Gemma and lands between them, wrapping an arm around them both. Gemma automatically curls against her, tits squished against Villanelle’s side. Eve flips onto her belly, resting her chin on Villanelle’s chest. 

“Not my best threesome,” Villanelle comments, and Eve hits her on the stomach. “Ow!”

“Stop fighting,” Gemma murmurs, half asleep already.

Villanelle mouths ‘stop fighting’ at Eve, who rolls her eyes, but leans forward to press a kiss to Villanelle’s lips. “You tired?”

“Kind of,” Eve sighs, lying her head down. Gemma reaches across Villanelle’s body and grabs Eve’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Villanelle stays awake long enough for Eve to twist and turn to her other side. Gemma snores lightly, and soon enough, Villanelle, too, fights sleep. She does, eventually, drift off, a hand firmly curled around one of Gemma’s breasts.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> @dykefruit on twitter. kudos and comments are greatly appreciated :)


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